


Of Pocky and Feathers

by ladybugbirdie42



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Verbal Abuse, jirou is an actual ray of sunshine, shishido is kinda only mentioned, theyre kids in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 12:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13318002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybugbirdie42/pseuds/ladybugbirdie42
Summary: One night Jirou is awoken by someone banging on his bedroom window. It turns out to be Gakuto. But why was he visiting so late at night? Set when they're around 10.





	Of Pocky and Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> Is the Prince of Tennis fandom still alive?  
> Anyways, I actually wrote this years ago (and posted it on ff.net), but now I have an ao3 account, so I brought it over.

It started as a light tapping, slowly growing louder until it was a flat out banging that rattled the window panes.

Jirou hid under his bed, clutching his stuffed sheep, shaking. Whimpering a bit, he buried his face in the soft wool of his precious sheep, hoping that the banging would stop and whoever was there would leave him alone. He wondered if he should seek out his parents, who were asleep in their room a little ways down the hall, but he was too afraid to leave the safety of the underside of his bed. Until:

“Jirou, I swear, if you don’t open this window right now, I will smash it open!” a familiar voice shouted, loudly enough that Jirou could hear him, but not so loudly that it would wake his parents.

A smile broke out on Jirou’s face, and he scrambled out from under his bed, popping up and dashing to the window. Gakuto! But what could he be doing at his house this late at night?

He flipped the lock on the sill and slid the window up. Gakuto jumped in from his perch on a nearby tree branch.

“Gaku-chan~! What are you doing here? Ah~ I’ll go get Mom.”

“Don’t!” he almost shouted in reply, stunning Jirou. But then he remembered how late it was and continued in a quieter voice. “Don’t tell you mom I’m here,” he said weakly, his hair shadowing his face.

“Gaku-chan? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” his voice was weak, shaking.

It dawned on Jirou that he was crying. He sat back on his heels, trying to figure out what to do. He wished Shishido were here. Whenever he or Gakuto was upset, Shishido always knew how to fix it. He’d know what to do, but he wasn’t here; he was on a vacation with his family.

He figured that whatever had upset Gakuto probably had something to do with _that._ Unfortunately, he had no idea what _that_ was. Shishido knew, but he refused to tell him no matter how many times he asked.

Gakuto would make any excuse to stay out later and Shishido would simply nod understandingly and yell at Jirou whenever he complained about being tired. Sometimes they would part ways and go to their separate homes, but then a couple hours later Gakuto would suddenly announce that they were having a sleepover at Shishido’s house. Occasionally, Jirou would wake up in the middle of the night to Gakuto crying and Shishido quietly comforting him.

Jirou couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a sleepover at Gakuto’s house. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even been inside it.

But Gakuto never came to his house in the middle of the night crying. He always went to Shishido’s house. But this time he couldn’t. That must be why.

Getting to his feet, he walked to where Gakuto was sitting on his bed and tried to offer the redhead his sheep. When he refused to take it, Jirou placed it on the bed beside him and then stumbled to where he thought his schoolbag was. Somehow he managed to find it despite the fact that he tended to just drop his bag somewhere random when he got home from school, preferring naptime over order.

Digging around a bit, his hand clasped onto a familiar object and he drew it out of the bag, walking back over to his friend. He held the box out towards Gakuto, shaking it a bit, a gesture for him to take it. After all, Pocky always cheered Jirou up when he was sad.

Gakuto ignored it too. Frowning, Jirou drew back, taking out a piece and chewing on it while trying to think of something else he could try. He had already tried to give him his two favourite things to use to cheer himself up, and Gakuto hadn’t even looked at them.

Suddenly, an idea came to him.

“Gaku-chan~! Wanna play the Pocky game?” He liked games. Games were fun. And fun things cheered people up, right?

Immediately, Gakuto’s head shot up and he sputtered, “What the heck, Jirou? Do you even know what that is?”

All he got as a response was a laugh and Jirou shook the box again until Gakuto gave in and took it from him. Sullenly, he bit into a piece and muttered, “Don’t suggest things when you don’t even know what you’re suggesting, Jirou.”

Jirou smiled brightly. He had no idea why Gakuto re acted the way he did, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore.

“Hey, hey, Gaku-chan~!” he said excitedly, bouncing up and down. “Show me how you do the thing!”

He tried to get into position to do a cartwheel. Gakuto cringed, hearing him crash to the ground. He hurriedly switched on the lights and helped Jirou off the ground. “Idiot! You’re going to wake your parents up!”

“Do it! Pleaaase?” He gave Gakuto his best puppy-dog eyes.

Gakuto glanced around at the floor littered with various objects. Then he smirked; he liked a challenge.

“Alright. But you’ll have to sit on the bed. I don’t want you in my way,” he said.

Jirou complied and watched excitedly as Gakuto launched into a series of flips.

Gakuto smiled to himself as he listened to Jirou’s cheers and concentrated fully on his routine, all his problems slipping away for a moment.

He closed his eyes, imaging he had wings. That he was flying through a cloudless, cerulean sky away. Away from his father and his cruel words, taking all his dreams, all he worked for and destroying them until there were only bits and pieces that Shishido was always forced to pick up and try to put back together as best he could. He was free.

But with a momentary lapse in concentration he found himself falling, hurtling back towards Earth. He lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling, dazed. Reality came rushing back to him all at once, slamming into him.

_You’re a failure._

_A disgrace._

_A disappointment._

_And you’ll_ never _amount to anything._

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he shut them, trying to push his father’s words out of his mind. But the words swallowed him, and he couldn’t fight back.

His father was. . .

Right.

It was true. He was a failure. He prided himself on his acrobatic abilities, and he couldn’t even do a few simple flips right. How many hours had he spent practicing only to continuously fail?

But then he was being pulled up out of the lake of misery that was drowning him, and he could practically feel the excitement emanate off of Jirou as he said, “Wow, Gaku-chan~! That was so cool!”

“What would you know,” he snapped, pulling his hand away from Jirou’s, “You can’t even do a cartwheel right.” He immediately felt bad for saying that. He shouldn’t drag Jirou down with him. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

However, Jirou’s smile only widened, and he said, ”I know! But that’s why it’s so cool! I could never do that!”

Gakuto couldn’t help but smile a little. It was almost impossible to be sad around Jirou. He had a natural ability to cheer others up. “You’d probably get yourself killed if you tried to do a backflip.”

He nodded emphatically in reply, that cheerful look never fading. Gakuto could barely remember the last time he had seen Jirou actually upset about something. “Hey, tomorrow will you show me your Moonsault again?” he asked before sheepishly adding, holding up the object that had messed up Gakuto’s landing – a stuffed animal that Shishido and Gakuto had spent their entire allowances on to get from the crane machine to give to Jirou –, “Maybe at the park where there’s more space.”

Gakuto gave an exasperated sigh, shoving down the doubts growing in the back of his mind. He knew Jirou was going to keep asking until he agreed, so he said, “Fine, tomorrow. Now go to bed. It’s late.” He was actually glad that Jirou was so excited about seeing him perform his acrobatics. His dad thought they were a waste of time, so it was reassuring that someone actually thought it was cool.

“But I’m not tired,” he whined.

Gakuto raised an eyebrow. Not tired? That was a first. “What do you want to do, then?”

“We could watch a movie. I have Star Wars.”

A mischievous grin crossed Gakuto’s face. “Let’s do it.” As if he would pass up an opportunity like this. “And then we can rub it in Ryou’s face when he gets back.”

As he expected, Jirou fell asleep before the opening credits had even finished scrolling across the screen. Gakuto rolled his eyes, pushing Jirou off of him. So much for not being tired.

He got up and turned off the lights and lowered the volume before climbing back onto the bed, leaning against the headboard.

No matter how many times he tried to tell himself that what his father said wasn’t true, the pain was still there. He had no idea what he’d do if he didn’t have Jirou and Shishido to pick up all the broken pieces that he was unable to touch himself.

He glanced out the window, where the bird’s nest he’d seen earlier while climbing it was still just barely visible – a faint, dark outline in the night. He wished he was like one of those birds, free to fly through the sky. But even if it were somehow possible, would he be able to leave Jirou and Shishido?

He turned back to the movie, only half-watching, fingering his necklace – the one with the feathers he had collected and coloured. Maybe tomorrow they could go collect more.


End file.
